


A Calculated Risk

by withthepilot



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-31
Updated: 2010-12-31
Packaged: 2017-10-14 06:21:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/pseuds/withthepilot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On an away mission, Sulu saves McCoy's life. It takes some convincing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Calculated Risk

"Okay, um. You have an arrow stuck in you."

"Hell of an observation, kid. Think you could pull it out before I get attached to it?"

Sulu bites his lip, looking unsure and every bit of twenty-two goddamn years old. McCoy inwardly swears to all that's holy that the entire Starfleet operation is doomed if they don't up their age requirement for enlistment, and fast. Maybe then he won't be surrounded by punk kids who look like they're still in the running for prom king.

"You'll bleed," Sulu says next, as explanation for his unfortunate choice to stand there and do nothing. "And you might die."

"I might die if you _don't_ pull it out. The arrowhead could be coated with some kind of foreign substance, Sulu." Whether it is or it isn't, _fuck_ , it _hurts_ , and McCoy really needs Sulu to do something already. They're separated from the rest of their team, communicators on the fritz, and McCoy really wishes he could stand up right now. Or, you know, feel his right side. Yeah, definite foreign substance. "What're you, afraid of blood?"

"No, just... What if it got your femoral artery?"

"You'll have to take that risk." McCoy squints up at Sulu, his voice slurring. "You know what the femoral artery is?"

"I'm not an idiot," Sulu huffs. He gets down on his knees and grabs for McCoy's medical kit, pulling out supplies quickly. "Plus, I used to date a nurse."

 _Male or female?_ McCoy almost asks in his quickly rising delirium. He stops himself and tries to focus on Sulu, watching his hands as they move assuredly. Sulu works with such concentration that McCoy can't help but wonder if the nurse he dated was Chapel; she always gets that grim look of determination on her face, too.

"Okay," Sulu says. He grabs hold of the arrow with two hands. "Gonna try to make this a clean pull. Hold still, okay?"

McCoy wants to retort with something bitchy about how he doesn't have much of a choice, but then the arrow is out and his uniform seems to instantaneously soak through with wet warmth and the world does a little tailspin around him. He feels pressure: Sulu's hands on him, trying to temper the wound. Sulu keeps barking at McCoy to stay alert, and sure, _now_ he's taking charge? The kid's got some nerve, acting completely clueless and then stepping up to the plate to try and save McCoy's life. Some fucking nerve.

"Screw you, prom king," McCoy mumbles faintly before he passes out.

*

McCoy comes to with a vague feeling that he ought to be embarrassed. Then he spies Sulu leaning over him and remembers why.

"Honestly, McCoy. I would have guessed that you'd spend your last moments alive thinking about your daughter or something. I can't tell you how touched I am that you chose to use your dying breath to insult me instead."

McCoy frowns and speaks hoarsely. "Where's Chapel?" he asks. "M'Benga?"

"Around." Sulu hands him a cup of water and McCoy reluctantly takes it and drinks from the straw inside. "I guess I should go tell them you're awake now."

McCoy's about to tell Sulu to stay, never mind it, but the kid bolts before he can pry his dry, cracked lips from his straw. A few seconds later, M'Benga and Chapel arrive, tricorders and PADDs in hand.

"Welcome back, Len," Chapel says with a relieved smile.

"Thanks, Chris."

"Stable," M'Benga says. He clucks his tongue. "You were lucky, Len. Good thing Lieutenant Sulu was with you. If he hadn't acted fast with that neurotoxin inhibitor..."

"You're kidding." McCoy blinks his heavy eyelids. Are they talking about the same Lieutenant Sulu? The one who stood there and gaped while Len writhed with a poison arrow in his thigh, looking as though all he needed was a jumbo bucket of popcorn? "How did he...?"

"Hard to say," Chapel replies. She plucks the cup out of McCoy's hand and sets it aside. "But he saved your life."

"Where the hell did he learn to do that?" Chapel and M'Benga both stay silent on the issue, taking notes and preparing sedatives. McCoy cocks his head toward Chapel and gives her a dubious look. "Hey, Chris. You and Sulu ever used to go out?" he asks. Chapel gives him a withering look.

"Go to sleep, Len," she says. Then she jabs a hypo into his neck.

That's a yes.

*

When McCoy walks into Sulu's quarters a few days later, fresh off a clean bill of health from M'Benga, he can't help but notice how neat everything is. Tidy. And there are plants everywhere, most of which he doesn't even recognize. He knew vaguely that Sulu liked plants, but it's never occurred to McCoy that Sulu could be a full-fledged botanist; that the pilot is a scientist at heart, just like him. McCoy's always had him pegged as a flyboy out for thrills—like Jim, except not as industrious.

Clearly, he was wrong.

"Hey, Doc," Sulu says. He looks at McCoy quizzically from his desk chair. "Gonna come in and say hi or just stand by the door and silently judge everything?"

"Uh, no. I mean...yes. Okay." McCoy takes a few steps into the room and purses his lips, looking Sulu over. He asked Sulu specifically if he could pay a visit, seeing as how Sulu never came back to sickbay after the day McCoy returned to consciousness. He supposes it's possible that the kid's been busy. Piloting the ship or whatever it is that he does. McCoy tries to string together all the words he's been planning for this, clumsy as they are. "I asked to come by because I wanted to say...well, thanks. To say thank you. For...what you did."

Sulu nods faintly and puts his PADD away. "No problem. I'm glad I knew how to help." He bites his lip, a gesture McCoy recognizes from the away mission. "I'm sorry I panicked at first. I just...I dunno how you do it, man."

"Do what?"

"You know, just...throwing yourself into saving a person's life, without knowing what's going to happen."

 _You might bleed_ , McCoy remembers Sulu saying. _What if it got your femoral artery?_ Sulu knew what he was doing all along; he was simply afraid of what could happen if it didn't work.

"Medicine is like that," McCoy murmurs. He takes a seat on the edge of Sulu's bed without thinking. "A crap shoot. It's still my job to try, no matter what the risk. I don't know how you manage to fly a damn starship without knowing what'll happen either, but you manage, don't you?" He pauses and looks down at the bed, then back up again quickly. "Uh...sorry, rude of me, should've asked if—"

"It's okay." Sulu ambles over from his desk to sit beside McCoy. He smiles slightly and shrugs. "Like I said, I'm glad I knew what I was doing. Morale would be pretty low around here if we lost our resident grumpy CMO."

McCoy scoffs. "Nice to know I serve a purpose."

Sulu smiles and it makes him look younger than ever, his eyes crinkling slightly and lips curving. McCoy finds himself leaning in unconsciously, and when Sulu's eyes widen in response, he draws back, stumbling over his words.

"Uh, sorry. I didn't—"

"No, right, yeah. I mean, you don't have to—"

"The medication, it's probably—"

"Wait, you're _high_?"

"I—no! For the love of...c'mere."

McCoy grabs the kid before he can protest or ask any other fool questions and plants one on his (surprisingly soft) lips. Sulu makes only a faint sound of surprise before he tilts his head and deepens the kiss eagerly. Just like that, they're necking like a couple of teenagers, and it doesn't take long before Sulu's wormed his way into McCoy's lap, pushing him onto his back. McCoy instinctively bunches the fabric of Sulu's uniform shirt in his hands to anchor himself. He can't think clearly when Sulu is pressed all along his side, his tongue probing McCoy's mouth as if to make sure he's all in one piece.

They part with a breathy gasp. Sulu grins and flicks back a few strands of hair that have fallen out of place on his forehead.

"What do you say, Doc? Wanna be my date for the prom?"

"Never mention that again if you know what's good for you," McCoy grumps. "Now shut up and kiss me, Lieutenant."

Sulu tilts his head, as if weighing the risk, and then, sure as anything, dives right back in.


End file.
